by Tanya Stowe
“You have my word, sir. Joss is safe with me. I intend to keep her comfortable while she regains her memory. Things between us won’t go any further than that.”
Holmquist studied Dylan. “I think you’re driven enough to keep that promise.”
Dylan tried not to flinch. He’d never thought of himself as driven. Strong-willed. Purposeful and successful. But not driven. Especially not so driven as to take advantage of Joss’s emotional state. No matter what Holmquist thought.
“Well, lead agent, I hope you have somewhere to go, because we’ve hit a dead end. Joss’s brother hasn’t shown up for work since the day before the cave-in. And what’s more, Maria Martinez, Walker’s girlfriend, and her family have disappeared. No one’s at home and the little sister hasn’t been to school.”
“We’re not at a dead end yet. One of my agents here in Tucson found a contact who’s talking. We have a name for their leader. Vibora.”
Holmquist shook his head. “Viper. Sounds about right for this guy. He’s crazy.”
“I’ve got my home office searching records for any connections to the name Vibora. If we can find a real name associated with that gang tag, we’ll have our first lead. See if you can expedite a search warrant for Walker’s apartment and the Martinez home.” He paused. “You should be happy. We didn’t find anything in Joss’s apartment.”
“Nope. It was clean as a whistle.”
“Well then, Joss is in the clear. You should be relieved.”
“I would be if any other special agent was in charge.”
Dylan smiled. “I think you just paid me a compliment.”
Holmquist returned a tight little smile before he turned and walked away. “Don’t let it go to your head, Murphy.”
* * *
“Are you telling me I might never regain my memory?” Joss held her breath. Doctor Hull avoided meeting her gaze by studying the computer screen on the cart by her bed.
“I’m saying it’s too soon to tell. Physically you are doing phenomenally well. Most people with a concussion as severe as yours would still be struggling to sit up. You were in excellent condition before your...accident.”
Joss’s jaw tightened. “That’s what they tell me. I, of course, don’t remember.”
The doctor’s eyebrows rose and he looked at her over the screen. “You’d think after what you’ve been through you would be willing to give yourself time to rest.”
She took a deep, tight breath. “If I knew what I’d been through, maybe I would. But right now all I want is to remember. I want my life back.”
“You still have no recollection of the accident or anything leading up to it?”
Joss closed her eyes and rested on the pillow. She willed her racing mind to be calm, to think...to remember. All she could see was a gray wall behind her closed eyes. Her jaw tightened and she looked at the older man.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just this irritating feeling that something is about to happen. I need to remember... I need to...” She sighed. “I need to stop something. But I don’t know how or even what it is.”
He pulled a pen light out of his coat pocket and kept up the conversation while he examined her pupils. “Maybe if you stop putting so much pressure on yourself, things will come back to you.”
“Someone tried to kill me. There’s a guard outside my hospital room and border-patrol officers hover around me 24/7. I don’t think I’m the one putting pressure on myself.”
He paused. “Are they bothering you? If you want me to ban them from your room, I will.”
She shook her head and the little movement brought on a twinge of vertigo. She closed her eyes, letting the moment of dizziness pass before she spoke again. “No. They’re trying to protect my feelings, so they won’t answer my questions. But that doesn’t help me when I know someone is trying to kill me. Or that I was found in a tunnel beneath the border, with a cache of drugs. They all seem to think I’m innocent, but...”
Dr. Hull waited, not rushing or pushing for a response. That, more than anything, gave her the courage to say what she really felt. “No matter how kind they are, that sounds guilty to me.”
“Is that how you feel—guilty?” He turned her head to the side, gently examining the bruise and swelling at the base of her skull.
Did she feel guilty? So many emotions swirled inside of her. Confusion. Anger. Fear. Mostly fear...of the unknown...of men she couldn’t remember trying to kill her. And now fear of not ever remembering. Of disappointing all of those very nice people outside her room.
They all seemed to care so much about her, and she couldn’t remember their names. As kind as they were, they seemed to want...need confirmation from her that she was innocent. Confirmation she couldn’t give them.
The only one who didn’t make her feel that way was Dylan. He didn’t seem to have expectations. At least not the same hopeful kind she sensed in everyone else. He made her feel like the truth was as important to him as it was to her.
The doctor’s gentle fingers touched a particularly tender spot and she winced.
“Still pretty sore there, I take it.”
She looked up to meet his gaze. “They all know so much about me and I know nothing.”
“You need to give yourself a break. You had a serious head injury and you’ve only been cognizant for a short while. Besides you know more than you think.”
“Like what?”
“Well, you know you heal quickly.”
She directed a frown in his direction.
“I’m not just placating you. Think about what you know instead of what you don’t. You’re very healthy and strong-willed. That’s apparent.”
That comment made a small wry twist slide over her lips. “I take it I haven’t been the best patient.”
The doctor’s lips lifted. “You’re impatient and you have a strong sense of right and wrong. Most people aren’t so willing to admit they might be guilty.”
That was the truth. She expelled her breath, slow and easy. Some of the taut, tense fear flowed out with it.
“As your doctor, I order you to stop fixating on what you don’t know and start rediscovering yourself. You’ll find more answers there than in your determination to remember what happened.”
“But something’s wrong. It needs to be stopped. I know it. I can feel it.”
“Probably. But if your friends are doing their jobs, they’ll find the answers without your help. In the meantime, you concentrate on you. On what makes you feel good and relaxed. Stop beating yourself up. Someone else already did that for you.”
Joss relaxed her shoulders and tried to ignore the tight band across her stomach. “I know one thing. You’re a pretty good doctor.”
He gave her a nod. “Remember that when you get my bill.” He patted her leg through the blanket. “I’ll see you later today to sign your release papers. You’re going home.”
Home. Where was that? An apartment or a house? What did it look like? Comfy? Or bare essentials? Did she like to cook, or was she more of a takeout person? Did she have a pet? Was something warm and furry waiting for her? If so, did someone think to take care of it while she was in the hospital?
Wait! Did she have a boyfriend? No. Surely not. If she did he would have been in to see her, right? All of Dr. Hull’s orders flew out the window as panic built inside her. She didn’t even know what she liked to eat!
The door opened and Dylan eased into the room. His curly hair looked slightly mussed, and the shadow of a beard graced his jawline. Instead of appearing scruffy, he seemed warm and welcoming, like he was ready for an afternoon on the couch. Joss couldn’t believe how much the idea appealed to her. Sitting beside him, watching football, with tons of cheese puffs and potato chips.
Okay. She liked football. Cheese puffs. Potato chips.
And Dylan. And not necessarily in that order
.
Dr. Hull was right. Concentrating on what she knew, instead of what she didn’t, helped. But there were two things she couldn’t forget, no matter how hard she tried. People were trying to kill her. So was home a safe place?
Second, she had to go, safe or not. She needed to trigger her memory, because something bad was going to happen if she didn’t stop it. Time was slipping away and she had to do something!
Groaning, she covered her face with her hands.
“Did the doctor give you bad news?”
The sound of Dylan’s voice, deep and resonant, somewhat eased the tight ball of fear in her stomach. His voice was the only thing she remembered...that and his singing. He had a habit of humming old hymns. She’d fallen asleep and woken many times to the sound of his low-key tones. She remembered some of the lyrics clearly. They came through strong, piercing the haze of pain. They were about the only things she did remember from the past few days. Those songs and his voice brought her comfort. With all the anxiety flowing through her, she needed that comfort more than anything right now.
A small smile slipped out... She couldn’t stop it. She was that relieved to see him.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On how you and Holmquist feel. Dr. Hull says he’ll be releasing me today.”
“That’s good news. Why does that make you unhappy?”
She hesitated. “You’ll have to make special arrangements, send more personnel to watch over me and...”
“Stop right there. You are not to think about those details. Let us do the worrying.”
Easier said than done. But with him, it worked. That calm reassurance went deep. How did he do it? What was it about him that eased the terror threatening to eat her alive?
That sense of safety with Dylan helped her go a step further and admit the truth. “I—I don’t know what I’m going home to.”
His eyebrows rose in a quizzical gesture. “You’re right. That is something to worry about. I don’t know how I’d feel either. Am I a neat freak? Do I hang my clothes or drop them? Am I a toilet paper up or down fellow?”
Joss giggled and a sharp pain shot through her temples. She stilled instantly, but couldn’t stop a little chuckle. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
“Okay. But seriously. I can’t help you there. I don’t know what your place looks like.”
“No? I thought you said we were friends.”
“Not that kind. We’re friends and we got along well. We’ve only known each other since I was transferred here to be the special agent on this case. About a month. We hadn’t graduated to visiting each other’s places, but we have common beliefs. We’re both Christians. You understood when I said my work was more of a calling...a God-given mission.”
That’s why the words to his songs comforted her so much. She was a Christian. She knew the songs. They meant something to her. It made sense. But what made more sense was the voice singing them. Dylan was reliable, strong in his faith but most of all safe. She sensed that now, even when she couldn’t remember anything else about her life.
Oblivious to where her thoughts had led her, Dylan continued. “We work well together.”
That gave her pause. “How?”
Her interruption threw him off. “What do you mean?”
“How do we work well together? Holmquist tells me you’re called the ‘gang buster.’ What do I do that helps you?”
He hesitated. “I think... I think we have the same goal...to protect people. That’s very important to me.”
“Why?”
Again he let the question lie while he thought about it. Was he trying to decide how much to tell her, or was he hesitating because he was going to tell her something personal about his own life? She hoped it was personal. She wanted to know more about him. Wanted to understand her deep-seated attraction to him.
He’d been her near-constant companion since she had awakened. He made her feel safe and protected. But she sensed her feelings went deeper. Had she been attracted to him before her accident? She needed to know, to understand something about her past and especially about him.
“I had a sister. Her name was Beth.” His voice dropped when he said her name. Almost as if he couldn’t speak the name out loud. Joss tensed. Whatever he was about to tell her pained him a great deal.
“She was my little sister, two years younger than me. She was beautiful and bright. Long dark hair...like yours. Only, hers was curly like mine.” A smile flashed across his lips. Gone in a moment. “She followed me everywhere...even in high school. That’s why I should have seen it. I should have realized.”
He shook his head. The pain in his expression went so deep, it hurt to see it. Reaching out, she grasped his hand. His touch was familiar. It had been like an anchor these past few days, keeping her from flying into empty space, from losing herself in darkness. She hoped she could do the same for him.
“Don’t. Don’t say more. I’m sorry I asked.”
He shook his head and gripped her hand, met her gaze. “It’s important, Joss. I want you to know.”
There was more...so much more behind the words. Something he wasn’t saying. But his hand was warm and strong. She wanted to bring it to her lips and kiss it, to thank him for trusting her.
But that would make him uncomfortable. Her emotions were too strong and overwhelming for the casual relationship he’d described. He’d told her they were friends. They clicked and worked well together. His words exactly. But Joss had the feeling “clicked” had meant a lot more to her, something Dylan didn’t want to acknowledge or discuss. Every time she’d tried to express her gratitude, to explain the unusual bond she felt with him, he grew uncomfortable and changed the subject. So she held her feelings and the words back.
“All right.” If she couldn’t comfort him in the way she wanted to, she could at least give him permission to share his heartache. “Tell me.”
He swallowed. “I went off to college and left Beth behind. Two years later she was dead from an overdose. She was seventeen.”
Joss was silent for a long while, as she searched for words. “I’m sorry. So sorry. But it wasn’t your fault...you were young.”
He gripped her hand with both of his and looked deep into her eyes. “But that’s the problem, Joss. It was my fault. I could have stopped it. She had a crush on my best friend, Rusty. He got her involved in the drug scene. I knew he was hooked on painkillers long before Beth started hanging out with him. I turned a blind eye to his usage, Joss. I covered up for him. I could have told his parents...told mine. They would never have trusted him with Beth. But they knew he was my best friend, thought he’d never let anything happen to her...”
His words trailed off into excruciating silence. Anger twisted his features. Anger and frustration...pain so strong, Joss could barely stand it.
She didn’t know what to say, didn’t understand the significance of why it was important for her to know. She only understood how it had impacted his life. “That’s why you say your work is a God-given mission.”
He nodded, never loosening his grip on her hand. “I stood over her coffin, stared at her emaciated body—I barely recognized my beautiful, vibrant little sister. My parents told me she was having problems. They thought it was an eating disorder, maybe depression. They didn’t suspect drugs and I didn’t want to believe Rusty would betray me like that...not until the evidence lay in front of me. I promised God right there and then that I would devote my life to stopping drug traffickers.”
She gripped his hand. “You’ve done it, Dylan. Holmquist tells me you have one of the best records of success in the DEA. That’s why they sent you here. You can be at ease. You’ve honored your promise.”
“More than a promise, Joss. A vow, and it was my duty.” He lifted her hand, squeezing tighter. “My sister died because I covered for my friend Rust
y. I was responsible.”
His intense gaze made her uncomfortable. “What are you trying to tell me, Dylan? Is there something I should know?”
The tension in his body eased and he released her hand. “No. No. I’m just... I don’t talk about Beth much. Not ever, really. I guess I got carried away.”
She smiled. “Thank you...for sharing. It means a lot to me.”
He looked away and shifted. “You need to stop thanking me so much. I’m only doing what needs to be done. And besides.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “We don’t usually talk about serious stuff. I call you ‘hot shot.’ You call me ‘special.’ We argue over football teams. Mine, of course, is better.”
So they did share football! She’d gotten something right. They also had common beliefs, as well as faith and confidence in the justice system. Maybe Dr. Hull knew what he was talking about. All she needed to do was to concentrate on what she did know. That was easier to do around Dylan, because for her, he was special.
Swallowing her fear, she said, “Which is my team?”
A sly twist slipped over his lips. “Well...how will you know I’m telling the truth? Maybe I’ll make you a Wildcat so when your memory comes back, you’ll remember the Sun Devils and know I got you.”
The attempted joke didn’t work, mainly because it reminded her that she might not ever remember. That made her future a big black hole, just like her past. She turned to him, all humor gone. “I trust you. You’re the only one I can trust right now.”
The wry twist faded and he looked away. “You know, I’m going to try to catch Holmquist before he leaves.”
The door closed behind him and the room seemed empty. In spite of what he had said, her release from the hospital was going to be a tactical nightmare. The city police would have to schedule someone to watch over her 24/7. Maybe her friends—the friends she couldn’t remember—would have to volunteer their time to guard her. The extra expense and stress would be ridiculous. Who would pay for it? How long could it last?
And...those men were still out there...trying to kill her. Why? Was that the terrible thing she needed to prevent? Her own murder? That was a horrifying thought.
